I'd like to thank all of my lovely reviewers, thanks for all the feedback.
Special thanks to my wonderful betas, hypnotic ink and Alabaster Princess
32- Dancing Queen
Help wanted! The sign in the window read.
For reasons she didn't quite know, Raven entered the shabby looking tavern in Knockturn Alley and was greeted by a dim atmosphere that was a strange mixture of being stuck in the past and an almost desperate attempt at aiming for something new.
House-elves were scurrying around, fixing furniture. There was a lot of plush and red velvet.
"We're closed," a voice from below the bar shouted over the noise of redecoration.
"I thought you're looking for help."
"Hmpf," came a grumble- definitely male- and then a pair of bloodshot pale eyes peeked up from below the bar, glaring at her out of a face that strongly reminded her of a Goblin at first glance. He wasn't that ugly, but he wasn't a beau either. After having taken her in for a moment, his eyes lit up and he stood to reveal his full size. "Pleased to meet you, missy! I'm Henri le Grand."
Raven glanced down at his head, which was approximately at her breast-level. "Le Grand, eh?"
"Indeed," Henri tugged at his pants to indicate that it wasn't his height he considered to be grand but his- ugh, Raven grimaced, but the guy kept on smiling, revealing perfectly white teeth. "So, what can ol' Henri do for you, sweetheart? You're looking for a job?"
"Um," rather not. What had gotten into her to enter such a place? After all, she was in Knockturn Alley where all the bars were... dubious, to put it mildly. "Don't call me sweetheart."
Henri just laughed. "Well, lemme tell you first what I'm looking for. Of course, you remember this is a place with tradition, don't you?"
No, but she didn't think she cared about the history of this place. Nevertheless, Henri le Grand insisted on telling her all about the bar, formerly known as the Dark Lantern, which was founded back in 1267 and had its height in the medieval times, when it was the most notorious place for rich young pure-bloods.
Henri heaved a sigh before he continued. "Alas, due to some financial misconception, things went downhill for the Dark Lantern and it became the Broken Lantern in the last century, but-" now he was smiling again, "I'm having big plans with this place."
"Ah?" She inquired with polite interest.
"Yep, I'm gonna bring it back to its former glory since I came up with some spectacularly new ideas and innovations that'll make Madam Marguerite cry- if ye know what I mean?"
Raven did, and therefore she involuntarily took a step backwards. "Oh, another brothel. I'm awfully sorry, but I do not intend to become a whore."
"No, no, no! Wait! Lemme explain it to you."
She refrained from leaving, turned around and glared at him. "I really don't know why I'm wasting my time here, but very well- please explain your innovative ideas."
Henri le Grand was nervously licking his lips, which didn't make him appear any more trustworthy; he just was slightly creepy. A repulsive person, and yet she didn't want to judge the book by its cover because he didn't seem to be an evil character. At least his smile had an honest touch.
"I want this to be a decent place. Well, not too decent- I mean, we're talking about night life in Knockturn Alley, and one has to keep up with the standards while offering something new and special that the wizarding world hasn't seen yet."
"And what might that be?"
"The Red Lantern will be serving exquisite drinks instead of the watered stuff you usually get in Knockturn, and I want my patrons- preferably well-esteemed pure-bloods- to relax in a cosy atmosphere, while getting inspired by dancing girls that are... er, scantily-clad but not all naked."
"Oh, you mean table dance?" Raven interjected.
"Nah, of course the girls will not be dancing on the tables were the drinks are being served. I was rather thinking of platforms with a pole in the middle..."
"Well, that is called table dance in the Muggle world."
For a moment, his face seemed to fall, but he recovered quite quickly and was soon smiling at her again, totally ignoring her demur as he continued to propagandise his not so innovative idea.
"Anyway, I prefer to call my future employees exotic dancers, because that's all I'm asking of them. Naturally, I want them to act as wanton and seductive as possible, but there will be no physical contact allowed except..."
"Except the patron decides to stuff some tip into the girl's bra," Raven finished his sentence.
"Exactly," Henri was brimming with joy; so glad that someone understood his innovative business concept.
"Well, it won't work that way in the wizarding world."
"Why ever not?"
"Er... because of our currency. We only have coins and I don't want to have a handful of Galleons stuffed into my bra; I guess no girl would want that."
"Oh," he looked slightly crestfallen now, but not for very long. Henri le Grand seemed to be a very cheerful person, always looking on the bright side. "Ah, but you do want the job."
"I never said that."
"Come on, I know you're interested."
"Then you know more than I do."
"Don't let me down. You're perfect for that job." Henri ushered her to a table, wiped it clean with his forearm and shooed the house-elves away, before purring, "Let's talk about the details, sweetie. What do you say to fifteen Galleons a night, plus you keep all your tips."
Raven was still not interested in becoming an exotic dancer, and yet she started haggling. "It takes at least fifty Galleons a night to make me even consider to strip."
He was still smiling, but now his voice took on a more business-like tone. "Darling, you're a pretty one but your tits are a tad too small to be worth fifty Galleons a night. I'd pay twenty-five if you considered using an Engorgement Charm on them."
"You may try to use an Engorgement Charm on your brain, but I think my tits are perfectly fine the way they are, thank you very much." Raven stood and turned to leave while on the quiet she was pondering if perhaps Henri was right. Is it because my tits are too small that Sev doesn't love me?On the other hand, bloody St Lily isn't any better equipped and- what the fuck am I thinking anyway. That was such a ridiculous train of thought!
"Wait!" Henri called out for her. "Don't run away. Forget what I said about your lovely tits. Twenty Galleons."
"Your last offer was twenty-five and I was asking for fifty. Besides, I'm not really interested in stripping in front of an audience that will most likely consist of lecherous old pure-blood wankers."
"Don't worry, I'm certain there will also be some dashing young admirers, given the recent... um, political situation."
Probably she was more Slytherin than she had ever thought possible because she was actually contemplating the advantages of the job that was being offered to her. She knew how much a table dancer could earn in one night since she met some of them in Vegas, and there was still the image of a chrome glittering Harley Davidson in her mind's eye.
"Forty. And you come up with a solution for the tips problem."
"You're such a minx!" Henri laughed out loud. "The patrons will love you- alright, then. Twenty- five."
"Thirty-five, and that's my last offer. You know, I don't really need this job."
It was true, she didn't really need this job; Raven could just as well write to her parents and beg for more money- but she was an eighteen year old witch that yearned for independence and she wanted to make her way alone, without the help of her parents.
In the end, they agreed on twenty-eight Galleons plus a rather generous sum that was needed to fit her out with the proper attire, no matter how little it would be.
Raven decided to not tell Severus her actual job description when she went shopping; she doubted he would be pleased. He was a bit prudish sometimes whereas she didn't mind to show a little skin.
-o-
Poor Henri. Although his innovative idea wasn't anything new since he had clearly been inspired in the Muggle world, it was at least a novelty in the wizarding world- and now he had to explain it again and again to Raven's colleagues. He really had thought it would be easier but those girls were frustratingly slow on the uptake.
"No, no, NO!" He groaned when they were rehearsing for the opening show. "I want to see a sexy dance, Violetta, not some fancy waltz. Miranda, we're not in a brothel so don't– Wilda! What in Merlin's name are you wearing?"
"Underwear, Mr Le Grand."
"That are unmentionables. Nobody wants to see those."
Wilda blinked at him, fluttering her long lashes. She was decidedly the prettiest of them, a pure-blood from an impoverished family with only one OWL in Divination but no gift as a seer. She had only accepted this job because she was hoping a prince would come into the Red Lantern, sweep her off the stage and marry her. Unfortunately, that wouldn't work if she didn't develop a taste in lingerie. Soon!
With a sigh he glanced at Raven, the only one who truly seemed to understand his vision of the first table dance club in the wizarding world. Miranda- Randy- had actually worked in a brothel before and thought this was just the same, and Violetta was a groupie, hoping to gain the attention of one of the Dark Lord's followers.
"Go shopping with them," he ordered.
Raven just smirked and held out her hand. Groaning again, Henri tossed a small purse full of jingling Galleons into her greedy claw. That witch would either ruin him or make him a very rich man, he hadn't yet decided which.
-o-
Severus rolled his eyes. There were two other apprentices in St Mungo's Potions Research Team, but he couldn't figure out how they had managed to get accepted into the program, since Professor O'Flaherty's standards were high. Nevertheless, they often reminded him of Potter and Black, because both of them were quite the pranksters that didn't even stop at melting a cauldron just for the fun of it. In the beginning, they had asked him to join them for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, but they had given up on that when it became obvious that he rather studied during lunch break, instead of getting slightly intoxicated with Butterbeer or whatever else they were consuming. Now they were laughing about him, calling him a swot.
He didn't mind. After all, he was here to learn something and he wanted to earn Professor O'Flaherty's praise; he wanted to please the man who had given him this great chance in life.
And Professor O'Flaherty was very pleased indeed with his young protégé. Severus was a natural in Potions; he had an understanding of ingredients and how they corresponded with each other that was rarely to be found. So, soon after Severus had started his apprenticeship, O'Flaherty asked him to assist him on a project to improve Gunhilda of Gorsemoor's cure for Dragon Pox, since there were still too many, especially elderly wizards and witches dying from the disease.
Some weeks later, they had succeeded in improving the cure, albeit it was too late for Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius' father, who died of Dragon Pox only a couple of days before. It was then that Severus met Lucius again. His former mentor was still looking as dashing and superior as ever, even- or especially- when he was publicly mourning his loss in the corridors of St Mungo's. The cameras of the Daily Prophet and other wizarding papers were clicking in a frenzy to not miss a single tear his grey eyes shed, but none of them saw the sparkle that was also there, but hidden well.
Due to his father's death, Lucius Malfoy was now one of the wealthiest men in wizarding Britain.
He donated a generous sum to St Mungo's for their attempts to save his father's life, and he even had the nerve to pat Severus' shoulder as if they were still friends, as if he hadn't sent the Cruciatus Curse his way the last time they had met.
-o-
"Professor O'Flaherty asked me to write an essay about our improvement of Gorsemoor's cure for Dragon Pox," Severus said proudly that night at dinner, "and if he considers it agreeable, he will see to it that it gets published in The Practical Potioneer."
"Wow, Sev, that's really great." Raven withstood the urge to hug him, but she was so very happy for him. "I'm certain your essay will be brilliant."
He couldn't hide his smile. "It is indeed an honour to get published for someone in his first year of apprenticeship."
"And you deserve it so. After all, you've been working hard on that cure those past few weeks."
Severus was still smiling, and that made her heart beat faster. Did he have any idea of just how handsome he was when he smiled? An army of butterflies started fluttering their wings.
"I was wondering if it is possible to develop a vaccine against Dragon Pox- you know, like the vaccines that Muggles have against all kinds of diseases. Dragon Pox is such a ridiculous illness and yet there are still wizards and witches dying from it."
"Have you proposed that idea to O'Flaherty already?"
He shook his head no. "I wanted to talk to you first. It seems to be such a very... Muggle idea. I am not certain it will be appreciated in the wizarding world."
"What's wrong with keeping people from dying, even if it's the Muggle way?" Raven gave to consider. "You know, Sev, sometimes we magical folk can indeed learn from Muggles, and who might be a better candidate than a half-blood when it comes to give a lesson on innovations? I really think we are the privileged ones because we know both worlds."
"Hm," Severus pondered about that, thought of the man who had fathered him, and quickly changed the topic. "I met Lucius Malfoy today. While the reporters were still there, he feigned grief about his father's death, but afterwards he patted my shoulder and pretended we were... friends. He even asked me to meet him later this night at the newest... hot place in Knockturn Alley, the Red Lantern- isn't that where you are working?- probably to celebrate his inheritance."
Now it was Raven who would have loved to change the topic of their conversation. "What did you say to his invitation?"
"I politely declined it, of course."
She breathed a sigh of relief since she really didn't want Severus to see her dancing scantily clad in front of the likes of Lucius Malfoy of all people. Actually, she didn't want Malfoy to see her either.
-o-
"What's that supposed to mean?" Henri groaned in exaggerated agitation when he saw Raven handing out fancy little masks to her co-dancers.
"Tonight's Venetian Night," she replied calmly as she glanced at him through her mask that covered the upper part of her face around her eyes and ended in feathers at her left temple.
He had to admit that it was not the turn-off he had expected- quite the contrary actually, considering the state of his grand little Henri. The girls were looking more mysterious with those masks on, which left more room for imagination, and imagination was good for business.
"Very well," he agreed, "tonight's Venetian Night."
Oh, that bloody minx! She would be his ruin, the very end of him. Why did he always have to give in to her whims? Ah, he knew... she made him rich. Incredibly, indecently rich. Granted, she wasn't the prettiest of his girls- Lettie, for example, got much more tips because she really was a looker, blonde-haired and so sweet- but in the end it was Raven Lestrange who made the cash register jingle with joy. She seemed to have a great understanding of what his patrons wanted.
It had been an almost blasphemous idea for a nightclub that was meant to incite the carnal desires of young, wealthy pure-blood wizards (and even that was almost blasphemous, since he was not offering the final satisfaction) to come up with a fictional currency that strongly reminded of Muggle dollars, and yet it was a success. So when the common sense of morality was low anyway, Henri concluded, people were apparently more tolerant of anything that was as new and exciting as his innovations in the wizarding world were.
On the other hand, sex would always sell. That much Henri was certain of.
-o-
"… forget Dumbledore, forget his organisation," Lucius drawled. "We've got friends in the right positions at the Ministry." He raised his glass of champagne in a toast. "To the Dark Lord!"
"To the Dark Lord!"
It wasn't the first time Raven heard patrons toasting to the Dark Lord. After all, the Lantern was situated in Knockturn Alley and it was supposed to be a place where the young and wealthy pure-bloods could meet, and many of those were followers of Voldemort. Today, however, there was a particularly illustrious group of them, including her not-cousins. And Lucius was their very generous host.
He beckoned her over in order to stuff a hundred Lantern-dollar note into her bra. "Dance for my friend Rodolphus here; he's a bit down because his dear missus is otherwise engaged." Malfoy chuckled.
Raven did as she was being told, but her not-cousin seemed to be really down since he was hardly paying attention. That money was easily earned. Well, she didn't mind. The image of the chrome- glittering beauty in front of her mind's eye was becoming more definite, and all the same she was suddenly beginning to grasp this other big chance that was being offered to her... almost on a silver tray. The less attention they were paying her, the more attention she could pay to what they were talking about.
But what to do with her knowledge?
Her idea of becoming a wizarding Mata Hari ended just as abruptly as it had begun because, contrary to the famous spy/exotic dancer, Raven had no connections. Not within the Ministry and neither within Dumbledore's secret organisation. And yet she felt the need to tell someone- anybody- what the Death Eaters were planning. Otherwise, some innocent people might die.
Raven knew she just couldn't walk into Auror headquarters in order to pass the information. Even if someone believed her, her cover would be blown immediately and she could forget about spying on future Death Eater patrons; she might even lose her job. Like a bubble of soap, her vision of the Harley seemed to explode. Oh no, she wasn't going to take that. Besides, Lucius had mentioned some friends at the Ministry, and the risk of running into one of them was too high.
So she started pondering if there was any chance to pass information to Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix. The problem was that she just didn't trust her former headmaster. Raven couldn't knock at his door at Hogwarts and tell him that some Muggleborn families were in danger. On the other hand, she couldn't let them get killed, knowing it would happen.
But who was there to trust with her knowledge?
-o-
Raven returned home earlier than usual that night, given that Henri had actually decided to close the Lantern after the Death Eaters had left and the cash register was jingling happily with all the money Mister Malfoy- Merlin bless him (Henri's words, not hers)- had spent. It was so easy for him to only see the advantages of his business, and business was going well for him, but Raven's conscience was heavily loaded with all the things she had overheard.
For a minute or two she stopped at Severus' door, thinking things over, before she finally knocked and entered. The sight that greeted her was ever so adorable- he was sleeping, looking so peaceful and... all of a sudden he opened his eyes, sat up in a whirl of grey, and aimed his wand at her throat.
Then he seemed to recognize her.
"Wha'd'yewant?" He rasped, still in a state of slumber but threateningly nevertheless.
"Put that away, will you?" Casually, Raven pushed away his wand, not at all being concerned of what he could have done with it. In her mind's eye was still the picture of him sleeping so peacefully, looking so relaxed it made her heart ache for him, and she almost regretted having woken him at all. But there were more pressing matters at hand now.
Wearily, Severus wiped his face and glared at her. "What's up, Lestrange?" He glanced at his alarm clock that told him he could have slept for at least two more hours if only she hadn't bothered him. On the other hand, his teenage body didn't mind being bothered by a pretty witch.
For a brief moment, she was even looking radiantly beautiful to him.
"I need to talk to you. And I need your advice. Would you like me to brew us a cup of tea?"
A little later, they met in the kitchen where Severus gratefully accepted a cup of tea and Raven tried to not frown about the faded grey nightshirt he was wearing, which was so very much the death of sexiness... and yet quite helpful for her to focus on what she really wanted to talk about now.
"Malfoy and some of his friends, including my not-cousins, were at the Lantern tonight, and they were talking about a planned attack on a Muggleborn family in Dorset-"
"You eavesdropped on Malfoy and his fellows?" Severus interjected.
"Well, sort of. They were not really trying to keep their conversation a secret, so eavesdropping is probably not the correct word. It's more like I happened to overhear what they were talking about."
"But he must have recognized you."
"Not likely, since I was wearing a Venetian mask to cover my identity."
Now he was frowning at her. "Would you please be so kind to elaborate again what it is precisely that you are doing in that bar?" Severus asked in a calm, controlled voice, and she just knew he had figured her out.
"I'd rather not. Besides, it's not the point. I have to find a way to pass that information-"
"Lestrange!" He cut her off with a menacing scowl on his face. "Don't you think it's about time you're finally telling me the whole truth? What is it that you are earning your money with? And I'd prefer you to not come up with lame excuses."
"Well then," Raven let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he wouldn't be pleased to learn the truth about her job, and he wasn't indeed when she had told him all about it. He shot her a scandalized glance, but she really wasn't in the mood of hearing a lesson in decency. Instead, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, just stop being such a prude. I'm not prostituting myself, and even that would be none of your business, since you are not my boyfriend."
Was there a hint of regret in her voice? Severus wondered briefly before he dismissed that weird thought and responded, "No, but I'm your friend. I don't want you to dance half-naked in front of Death Eaters. I won't let you-"
"Severus!" She fumed..
"You are quite a bright witch, you did well in your NEWTs- you can't tell me there's no decent job for you."
"I'm bloody not looking for a decent job. Merlin's balls, did you even listen to me at all? I told you the Death Eaters are planning to attack a Muggleborn family in Dorset and I'm looking for a way to pass that information to the Dumbledore's bloody Order. This is about saving lives and not about how much I'm wearing while eavesdropping on evil plans."
Neither of them won their glaring competition.
"Send an anonymous message to Dumbledore," Severus suggested in the end.
"Yeah, but I'll have to cover my tracks damn well if I don't want him to reveal my identity. It's likely that I'm going to overhear more Death Eater plans in the near future-"
"You want to continue spying on them?"
"Decidedly," Raven replied, flashing him a somewhat mulish glance.
"Would you please come to your senses, Lestrange? It's dangerous-"
"We're living in dangerous times, Sev. Working as an Auror is dangerous and yet you had no reservations when I came up with my career plans."
"Because there is a difference between attending proper Auror training and coming up with that ridiculous idea of spying on Death Eaters in a seedy bar in Knockturn Alley."
"At least there's a difference in payment."
"Great, go and risk your life for that infernal Muggle machine you want to buy!" He said waspishly.
"Oh, that's only a nice bonus. I just don't want to twiddle my thumbs and lie low while Lord V is out there killing people, and if I'm too much a Slytherin for the Ministry to be accepted into Auror training, then I have to be even more a Slytherin."
"What's got posing half-naked in front of Death Eaters to do with being Slytherin?"
"So now it's my scantily-clad state again and not so much the risk of exposure?"
"You are exposing yourself, Lestrange."
"Well, that certainly is a valid interpretation, but such a typically male one."
Severus narrowed his eyes at her. "Humour me- even if I don't think it's funny- and pray tell me what your interpretation is."
"Well," she lit a cigarette. "You think if I pose half-naked in front of whoever that I reduce myself to an object of carnal desire. I say, however, that I'm not selling myself. I sell fantasies. Yes, sexual fantasies, indeed. But I'm merely playing a very old game, probably as old as mankind itself, by spurring on the male imagination. And that, Sev, gives me a certain power over them because the male mind in general is so predictable. Men stop thinking when they're being confronted with the allures of a female body; they throw caution to the wind if they catch sight of breasts, and then they become careless. Add spirits to that mixture and they spill all their secrets without even realizing it, because they tend to forget that sometimes there's a brain behind a desirable body."
"I'm not like that... I'm not focused on sexual lures," Severus protested although it was undeniable that his body begged to differ. All that talk about spurring on the male imagination had turned him on. And she was not only a pretty witch, but apparently also an experienced one- and his best friend. It just wasn't right to envision her half-naked (or scantily-clad, like she would phrase her state of not being properly dressed.)
"Unfortunately," Raven sighed quietly. She would have loved to prove him wrong, knowing she could probably seduce him right here and now- but it would be meaningless. A quick shag on the kitchen table would only ruin their friendship and that was a risk she was not going to take. Then she noticed that he was shooting her a puzzled glance. Oh fuck. "Um... I mean, fortunately most guys are not like you, otherwise I'd be without a job."
"Hm." He was still displeased- with her and her choice of job, and just as much with himself because he was not that different from the guys he so despised. Silently, Severus cursed his treacherous teenage body for all its desperate needs, knowing it was wrong and hoping it would just stop being so sexually frustrated that he could hardly focus on more pressing matters.
For a moment, the tension between them became so tight with pent-up emotions that it almost led to an involuntary outbreak of magic; the air seemed to be buzzing as if it was on high voltage- and then it ended just as soon as it had begun when Raven heaved a sigh, asking Severus, "So, are you gonna help me or not?"
"Do you really have to do that?"
There was that defiant sparkle in her eyes that made him realise she was dead sure about her way of proceeding things. He was not happy about it, but he agreed nevertheless.
"Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. I will come up with an idea."
"Thanks! You're just the best, Sev!"
Severus cast his eyes heavenwards as if hoping for the support of whatever deity, then he turned to Raven again. "Please try to wear something decent."
-o-
Severus might have admired her cunning to use her female allures in order to spy on the followers of the Dark Lord, and probably it was even Slytherin- but most of all it was dangerous. He didn't want her to risk her life for people she didn't know and who didn't care about her.
Raven, however, was finally feeling like she was doing something useful. After being rejected for Auror training, she had been down for a long time, but now her life got a new meaning. She could still defy Voldemort in her very own way, without fighting in Dumbledore's Order. Actually, she even preferred to not be out there, fighting, when she could be dancing instead.
-o-
Severus groaned when she entered the Leaky Cauldron, a little too late as usual. In a hurry she tried to fling some robes over her Muggle attire, slapping the fabric into the faces of some innocent bystanders in the process, before the seam of her robes got tangled with the ridiculous high heels she was wearing and she stumbled into the waitress carrying a large tray with Butterbeers for her thirsty patrons on lunch break. It was a miracle that only one of the pints crashed down and only one of the patrons received a shower of Butterbeer instead of getting to drink it. She flashed that wizard an apologetic smile, made quite some fuss about his robes- instead of simply using her wand to tidy him up- and the guy actually possessed the nerve to smile at her in return. Then she stalked over to where Severus was sitting, smirking ever so smugly.
"Lestrange," he sighed. Although he really liked her, sometimes she just was a living disaster. Fortunately, she was pretty enough that no one took offence at her clumsiness. Quite the contrary, actually. The wizard she had given a free Butterbeer shower was even willing to buy her a drink, as it seemed.
So perhaps she was right with her point of view that the male mind was very predictable when being confronted with the sight of a pretty witch, and that led to the conclusion that she was also right about all the other things she had told him... mainly, that she probably managed indeed to exercise a certain kind of power over the patrons that came to see her dancing half-naked in that seedy bar where she was wasting away her talent.
"How was your morning?" She asked, flashing him a smile.
"Agreeable," he responded.
When he touched her knee, Raven almost thought he wanted to- but no, only an instant later she realized he was merely trying to surreptitiously shove a vial of whatever into her hand. Her fingers closed around the glassy surface and she glanced at him inquiringly.
"Is that what I think it is?"
Severus arched a brow at her. "Well, it depends on what you think that it is?"
She mouthed the words 'Polyjuice Potion', and he nodded barely noticeably. "I started brewing a batch of it anyway, some weeks ago. Use it to cover your identity when you walk into the Post Office to send an anonymous owl to Dumbledore. All you need to do is to add an extract of the person you want to become- a hair will do fairly well- and your cover won't blow."
"I thought you'd come up with that," Raven smirked as she opened her other hand to reveal a strand of hair she was holding in her palm. According to its colour, it seemed to belong to the wizard she had so generously given a Butterbeer shower a little earlier.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You planned that... mishap of yours?"
She chuckled and shook her head. "Nope... there was no planning on my part. It just happened and then I simply used the opportunity."
Oh. Dear. Merlin. Severus glared at his friend and frowned. "I really shouldn't support you in your rather Gryffindor-ish idea of having to save the world from the Dark Lord, but since I'm doing it anyway, you could at least promise me to be careful. Don't go risking your life for just any stupid Muggleborns."
Raven bent forward to kiss his check, feeling touched by his concern. So he did care about her!
"I solemnly swear that I will be as careful as possible, Sev," she whispered in his ear. After all, she decidedly had no death wish since she wanted to live and see the day he finally came to realize that she was not only available but also a much better choice than bloody St Lily on the pedestal with her holier-than-thou attitude.